


In the dark was the dream

by Kavi Leighanna (kleighanna)



Series: Sleep [4]
Category: Castle
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Kid!Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleighanna/pseuds/Kavi%20Leighanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javi comes home on Christmas Eve to find his son's been waiting up for Santa. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the dark was the dream

The apartment is absolutely silent when Javi steps in. He’d expected it. Someone has to work Christmas Eve and really, it had been his turn. He doesn’t mind, really. Christmas Eve isn’t their thing anyway.

His keys go into the little bowl, his coat on the tree and he kicks his shoes off to the side. Lanie’ll kill him in the morning because she has A Thing about a neat entryway, but he really doesn’t care right now. It’s late, he’s tired and he’s finally home.

The tree lights are still on and it makes him smile, blue and red and yellow colouring the walls because he is an absolute pushover for their son and Joey had been fixated on the rainbow lights. Javi prefers plain white, but his six year old has a mind of his own. Everything is about colour and light and he is not going to be the parent to put a damper on that.

The light catches against a lump on the couch and Javi sighs. Christmas has been an extravaganza this year – Javi will blame Castle until the end of time because the man’s been adamant Joey join them for every single holiday tradition he and Alexis can cook up – but Joey’s loving it, and as long as his kid doesn’t get greedy about gifts, Javi’s more than happy to let Joey enjoy the season in every way he can.

There’s enough darkness in their lives, in his and in Lanie’s.

Sure enough, Joey’s curled up in a corner of the couch, his favourite blanket spread over his body. There’s a half-eaten cookie on Santa’s Christmas plate and Javi chuckles.

“Buddy. Wake up.”

It takes a minute – Joey must be absolutely exhausted – but his eyes flutter open.

“Did Santa come?”

The laughter rolls through his chest as he strokes his son’s hair. It’s getting long, curling at the ends, but they’ve all been so busy. He’ll have to take Joey to the barber after the holidays. The kid loves the place.

“Not yet,” Javi answers. “Looks like you’ve already made a dent in his snack.”

If he’d been awake, Javi knows Joey would look embarrassed, guilty. As it is, his son’s too damn tired. “When’s Santa going to come?”

It’s been like this for weeks now. Javi’s not sure what kind of story Castle told the kids, though Beckett says it’s the same one he’s told Ava and Jack for years now. “My man, Santa only comes for kids who sleep in their beds.”

“Jack says Uncle Rick lets them sleep in their fort in the living room. Can we build a fort, Daddy? We’ll clean it up before Mama gets up.”

They will not. Neither of them is particularly awake enough to build a fort at this hour and there’s no way they’ll be awake early enough to clean it up, let alone have the time.

“Not tonight. Tonight we get you to bed. It’s late.”

Joey’s eyes flutter. “Late.”

Javi bites his cheek against a laugh. “We gotta get you to bed, my man. Santa can’t come if you’re not in bed.”

And then Joey does something he hasn’t done for years. He holds out his so-skinny arms for Javi to pick him up. And because he is a sucker for his son and really, really just wants to get to bed – Joey will be up early, he always is – he obliges.

“Man, kid, I’m not going to be able to do this for you much longer.”

Yet Javi carries his son to bed, tucks him up tight beneath a Captain America duvet that had come from Ryan and Jenny and heads back to the living room. He’s just settling down for the cookies when Lanie comes down the hall, two huge wrapped packages in her arms.

“He down?”

Javi stretches out as she tucks the packages beneath the tree, can’t help the grin that stretches across his face as she picks up the cookie plate and curls into his side. “For the count.” He kisses her head. “How was your day?”

“I baked,” she shakes the cookies under his nose. “Told my mom we’d be over when Joey was ready.”

“Right, brunch.”

“Brunch.”

“And dinner.”

“And dinner,” she echoes and he hears the crunch of a cookie. “After presents.”

His body goes lax against hers. “Remind me again why they call this a holiday?”

“Food. Family. Friends.” Another crunch. “Did you think it meant rest and relaxation?”

He laughs, rubs his nose against her head until she gives in and turns her head for a real kiss. He keeps it slow, languid, nothing pressing and nothing heated. Neither of them are in the mood for that.

“Merry Christmas, Cari.”

She hums. “Merry Christmas.”


End file.
